


The Things We Do

by sinemoras09



Category: X -エックス- | X/1999
Genre: Divorce, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-07
Updated: 2008-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4517847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinemoras09/pseuds/sinemoras09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoki protects his wife the only way he can. Flash-fic. No spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Do

His wife was at the stove. "I bought shrimp tonight," she said. He watched as she moved to dump the vegetables into the pot, the pot of water bubbling quietly. "Tatsuki's at her friend's today, but she should be home in a few hours. How was your day?" she asked.

Aoki watched, looked at her with darkened eyes. She turned, wiping her hands on a towel.

"Darling? What's wrong?" she asked.

"There's something I have to tell you," Aoki said. His wife frowned as they sat down at the table.

Aoki took a breath, then took her hand. Her skin was warm and dry and he could trace the pale creases under her palm.

"Seiichirou? What is it?" she asked. Aoki moved his hands.

"There's somebody else," Aoki said. "And I want a divorce."

The water bubbled. His wife stared at him as if he had two heads. "What?"

"I met someone," Aoki said. Forced himself to be firm, assured. "I don't wish to cheat on you. I'm not that kind of man."

"You're kidding." His wife blinked, hands tightening into fists. Aoki's chest hurt; his throat was tight. He fought the urge to scoop her into his arms.

"When?" his wife asked. Her face was drawn, fighting tears. "Was it at Flower?"

Aoki didn't answer. His wife squeezed her eyes, shoulders hunching. "Is it that Karen woman?" she asked. "I thought it was for work. I thought it was okay--"

"I'm sorry," Aoki said. His voice was hollow in his ears. His wife started to sob.

Aoki moved to look out the window, thinking of the battle and the war that was to come. It was better this way. Better that she hate him than start to grieve.

The pot began to bubble over, and quietly Aoki moved to turn down the heat. His wife's face was blotchy and her eyes were red; she wouldn't look at him. He moved to sit next to her.

"What about Tatsuki?" she asked. Her voice was so small.

"Tell her what you want," Aoki said. His wife squeezed her eyes, fresh tears spilling over.

"You don't love me?" his wife said. Aoki turned, pausing by the door.

"No," Aoki said, and he quietly shut the door.

 

*****

 

He sat in his room at his new apartment, the red neon street sign blinking through the open window. It was easy finding a place at the seedy end of town, and it was appropriate.

There was a picture in his wallet, one of his wife and daughter at the ocean. The edges were creased and careworn and the photograph itself was starting to fade, and his wife had teased him that he needed a new picture, that they should go to the beach and get a replacement taken straightaway.

At the time he had laughed. Circled his arms around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. A tear dripped, then smudged the ink on the paper.

Aoki wiped his eyes.

There was a knock. Aoki raised his head.

"It's open," Aoki said. The door opened; Daisuke poked his head through the door.

"Uncle?"

"Daisuke," Aoki said. Daisuke stepped inside, setting his bag on the floor. "How is she?" he asked.

"Sad," Daisuke said. "She was at my mother's house crying her eyes out." He sat next to Aoki, the couch caving in slightly with his weight. "I don't think Tatsuki understands," Daisuke said. Aoki nodded.

"It's better this way," Aoki said. "When I die, I want her to be glad. I don't want her to cry over me."

"She's crying now," Daisuke said. Aoki hung his head. "Uncle, this is foolish. You always told me our powers are used to protect the people we love--"

"And that's what I'm doing," Aoki said. "When I die I want to protect her heart. Our daughter's heart. They can't know what's really going on. I don't want them to be involved."

"And if you survive?" Daisuke asked.

"I'll tell her I still love her," Aoki said. "I'll pray she'll take me back."

 

******

 

The house was quiet when he crept inside. The clock ticked; shadows hung against the wall.

In the barrier, people can't see him. They don't know if they're touched, if an explosion rocks or an arrow pierces through their heart. Here, now, Aoki knew his daughter couldn't feel his hand brushing back the bangs off her face. It was a bittersweet moment, and he forced himself to move on.

His wife had cried herself to sleep in the bedroom.

There was a warmth behind his eyes as he gingerly sat on the bed, gently placing his hand on her shoulder and stroking her hair. His wife stirred. Quietly, he moved next to her, gathering her into the spaces of his body and holding her tight. She breathed, then nuzzled into his shoulder. Aoki squeezed his eyes.

That morning, his wife woke with a blanket tenderly draped over her, feeling warm and loved and reaching a hand toward her husband's side of the bed, before stopping and remembering that he wasn't there.

 

*****

 

The night before the divorce, before Aoki had made up his mind, his wife had been waiting for him to get home from work. It was a long night and the ensuing battle made it even longer, and by the time he got home he was exhausted and spent. He found his wife sleeping on the sofa, eyelids fluttering in her sleep.

He sat next beside her, and his wife turned sleepily, pressing her head in his lap and pressing a sleepy kiss to his side. "Welcome back," she said, and Aoki knew he had something to protect, something precious he needed to hold in his hand.

They made love that night, his wife rising against him to meet his thrusts, and as he clinged to her she murmured soothing sounds as if whispering him to sleep. "What's wrong?" she asked, and Aoki only shook his head, pressing his face against her breast and holding her, tight.

"You don't love me?" she asked in the kitchen, face drawn and voice choked with sobs. "What about last night? You fell asleep in my arms..."

"I'm sorry," Aoki said. He couldn't look at her eyes.

 

*****

 

The final battle was coming. Karen sat, drew a lazy puff from her cigarette before flicking away the ashes, looking out at the Tokyo skyline below them.

"That was a low thing," Karen said. "Using my name for the divorce."

"It could not be helped," Aoki said. "It was the only plausible explanation."

"I guess," Karen said, and she frowned at the horizon.


End file.
